Well, you know, there late one night up on Blueberry Hill
One man turned to the other man and said, with a blood-curdlin’ chill, he said:
“Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get ’em off!)”

Well, you know, we was layin’ down around Mink Muscle Creek
One man said to the other man, he began to speak, he said:
“Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get ’em off!)”

Well, you know, we was cruisin’ down the highway in a Greyhound bus
All kinds-a children in the side road, they was hollerin’ at us, sayin’:
“Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me!”